Red Flecked Halo
by MooseSupremacy
Summary: Sanae would have thought that he would be used to it by now, seeing people walk into the shop in various states of carnage. But he wasn't ready this time. (Pre-Game) (Backstory) (Mr. H has it rough)


**Red Flecked Halo**

A calendar up on the wall still said June and had it a picture of a field of sunflowers. It was fringing on August now and he still hadn't bothered to change it. Maybe it was because the picture was nice, or maybe because he found that it didn't really matter. If time were still a useful tool for managing his affairs, then maybe he could have marked it, but he didn't. Today just morphed into one of the moments of a seemingly endless day, which just happened to consist of weeks, months, and years. Though to be honest, he was very glad that he didn't have such a tight schedule, like the other folks in the city do. Humans seemed to fixate on 'time' and how they never seem to have enough of it. He could sort of understand it, though. In the grand scheme of things they did have just a couple of heartbeats of a lifespan.

One reason why he really enjoyed running the WildKat was that he got snippets of the entire human spectrum walking in everyday. Well, that and constant access to experimenting with new flavor blends for coffee. It wasn't only the living that traipsed through the door. Business would have been a lot easier to manage if that was the case. People (who were often alarmingly young) would enter the shop and order a few things before throwing themselves back into the grind of the Game. It must be a relief to them, to have vendors be able to sell them the items they need, otherwise it would be a very short experience in the Underground. Even if it had just ended there, that these souls would buy their stuff and chat for a few, then leave, it might have been decent still. It wouldn't have worn on him so much.

But it did. One of those little things that aren't mentioned, or that they hide under the fine print is how angels perceive things. Of course, being supernatural beings, they would see the world differently. It only makes sense. Since time is a globular mess of events and history, the people who come through here during their Game still look like they did when they died.

Mangled limbs and all.

Some of them would look alright, maybe a touch too pale, or neck unnaturally elongated. Some of them... were not so lucky. The ones who had been in accidents would walk in - well, crawl is more fitting - and act like nothing was wrong. To them, nothing _was_ wrong, they felt just fine. Thank god for that. He supposed that to other players, they looked normal as well. Also fortunate, because they wouldn't be able to get their assignments done if they were freaking out over their entrails spilling out onto the concrete. It worked in their best interests and that is all he could hope for. It didn't make it any easier on him, however.

Trying to make casual conversation with someone whose face is gone, shredded, and tongue lolling over the cavity where a jaw and neck should be is not a simple task. Sanae wonders, sometimes, just how this happened, how some of these people look like they've been put through a wood-chipper. Asking the dead what exactly got them to this point is sketchy at best and traumatizing at worst. So he just tried to be kind, to offer polite conversation, maybe a few bad jokes or cryptic hints, before sending them on their way. He figured that this was how things were. It he felt awful about it but over-exposure to more and more of these poor people, made it bother him less. Less meaning that he wasn't compelled to vomit or start sobbing hysterically.

The living customers were in their own tiny sphere of problems, worrying about job interviews, failing classes, or making plans with friends. Entirely separate from the people sitting in the seat next to them in the Underground. Not aware of the person bleeding onto the counter and making wet rasping sounds, attempting to order food. Until on this one occasion, a kid came in who wasn't a regular.

He looked fairly young, somewhere near 14. He ordered a large black coffee before sitting on the far side of the counter, closer to the back of the shop. Normally, he wouldn't have been a person of interest, normal customers come and go on the regular. Not long after he handed the kid his drink, the bell at the door gave a merry chime and in walked another customer. She wasn't any older than 17 or so, appeared to be relatively unmarred by violence besides the near bloodless appearance. When she reached to hand him the money, Sanae noticed deep gouges on both wrists and understood. He gave her a small discount.

When she left, the new kid gave the strangest of looks at the barista, then let his eyes wander back to the girl who was now crossing the street.

She phased through the people and cars alike.

Once she was out of sight, the figure at the counter tightened his grip on the mug and stared deeply into it, as if expecting the answers to the universe to be revealed. It struck him as odd. Even the living had some off days, he'd seen several wailing salesmen and women and many breakups in the shop. This was different. When Sanae got a break from the busy lunch crowd and he turned to the kid.

"Hey, you okay over there?"

Startled, he looked up. His eyes were a splash of purple, swimming in panic and surprise, framed by darkened crescents of exhaustion. Without saying a word, he got up from his seat and walked to the exit, holding his arms nervously as if he was afraid he was going to be struck. He left with his sight focused on the ground.

"Huh, what's with him..." Sanae asked himself as he started to wipe down the counter before the next wave of customers. The mug was still full, the kid hadn't even touched it. The barista made a small frown of confusion and emptied the contents into the sink.

* * *

This event passed like the rest and soon he had all but forgotten, yet some time later, he showed up again. Not much had changed, the kid seemed tired. He ordered the same thing, sat in the same place, and glared into his drink. It dawned on Sanae that he looked familiar. There were no deceased customers today, or they had gone elsewhere for their business, and as a result the living customer at the counter was not as jumpy. Due to the WildKat having a slow day, he made a point of observing the few people present.

One was a man in his late thirties, busily typing away on his laptop. Another was a woman chatting and laughing obnoxiously to someone on the phone. Lastly, in the ghost town of a cafe, was the kid.

"How's it going?" He said to the teen while washing out a few mugs from previous customers. No harm in striving for some friendly conversation.

"It's going fine." The answer was stale, void of emotion or interest, a reply that had been repeated many times with the same result.

"...okaaaaay then. Let me know if you need something."

Maybe half an hour later, he hauled himself off of his seat and left as he had done the last time - head down and skittish. The white mug was filled to the brim with cold coffee. Sanae shook his head in mild irritation. _Waste of good coffee._

This process repeated a few times over, the ash-blond teen giving the same automatic reply, ordered the same thing, staring into his cup before high-tailing it a short time later. Despite being unable to directly refuse him service, since he did pay, it did irk him that someone wouldn't even try the thing they bought. Electing to take the up the matter himself, the shop's owner questioned him one day,

"Listen, kid. If you're not going to drink it, why bother ordering? We do sell other things if straight black isn't your deal."

"I have to buy something, otherwise it's consider loitering."

Unable to stop himself from remarking, Sanae added, "There's other places to hang around if you're bored, y'know."

Pausing, the expression in his eyes grew resentful, and he answered quietly. "It's calmer here."

He was about to inquire 'what's calmer here' when the door opened. In walked a boy, probably no older than the customer he was addressing. A large piece of glass jammed through the underside of his jaw and neck, exposing layers of tissue and a severed windpipe. The injury had caused the skin covering the area to become a sagging flap that drooped on top of the glass. Sanae winced internally but turned his attention to the new customer.

Meanwhile, the teen clenched a shaky fist and kept his eyes fixedly away. The barista gave him a quick glance before getting the deceased person's order ready. The unfortunate thanked him and shambled out into the streets.

"Kid?"

"What?! What?" He looked around, searching for something. When he didn't find it, he relaxed and his posture softened, he ran a hand through his hair.

"You, uh, doing alright?"

"Fine." The word sounded tight, as if forced.

"Doesn't seem like it."

"I'm _fine_."

Sanae peered over his sunglasses at him, conveying wholeheartedly that he didn't buy it for a second.

Taken aback, he opened his mouth to say something but thought better of it. Instead he mumbled, "It's just something that happens."

"What does?"

The purple eyes shot him a venomous glare, "...why should I tell you? It's not going to make it stop. You're going to say the same thing they all do."

He pondered for a second before asking, "Kid, what's your name?"

"Does it matter?"

"I'm better at faces than I am at names. Give me something to work with, will ya?"

"...it's Yos- Josh. Joshua."

"Joshua, huh? Well, Joshua, I can't promise anything but I'm probably not going to repeat what other people have said. That's bland as hell, man."

He was silent for a moment, then gave a smirk, "Oh, you know. The usual. Seeing things that aren't really there and trying to block out the rest of the hallucinations in day to day life."

"What do they look like?"

"Just... people. Most of them. Some are creatures that don't make any logical sense."

"What if I told you that stuff was real?" He offered, not bothering to conceal his surprise any longer. How did this kid get the ability to see the UG? This didn't make any sense.

"Don't patronize me." Joshua sneered, "I know it's all in my head."

"Maybe it's not. Maybe it exists in another field of reality."

"Of course, in the same place where unicorns prance between rainbows. My, oh my, why didn't I think of that?"

"So do these weird creatures... do they attack the people?"

"...they do." He swirled the contents of his drink.

"And do the people react to this?"

"Mmhmm. They beg, and scream, and try to fight them. Sometimes they succeed. Most of the time, they do not."

This was a weird situation. Technically, he wasn't supposed to tell anyone about the UG or even hint at it. But this kid, Joshua, he already knew something about it. It wouldn't be spilling the beans, right? Just... clarifying the beans. Man, that didn't sound any better.

"Hate to sound like I'm wearing a tin-foil hat but-"

"Aluminum."

"What?" Caught off guard, he halted.

"It's aluminum foil. No one makes it out of tin, these days."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Look the point is, you're not making it up. It _is_ real. The only people who know about it are those who are involved in it and me. The 'hallucinations' are called Noise and the people are Players. They're... folks who have kicked the bucket and are trying for another shot at life."

"So I'm just seeing dead people and horrible otherworldly monstrosities. Wow, that makes me feel so much better. Heh-heh." Through the thick wall of sarcasm, Joshua did appear a little less agitated, however.

* * *

Over the next couple of months, he would visit the WildKat often. Until, despite himself, Joshua could almost consider the coffee fanatic a friend. They exchanged information regarding experiences with the UG, though the really confidential stuff Sanae managed to keep quiet.

Nearly a year and a half had passed, though it felt just the same as usual to him as he swept excess coffee grounds from behind the counter. Part of the endless grind of cleaning, brewing, and testing new flavors. Busy as ever, with both living and dead alike. It was like trying to get blood from a stone when piecing together stuff about J (a nickname which he had given to him due to it being easier to remember). He'd gathered cumulatively that he'd always been able to see the Underground, his folks were a pair of uptight snobs that considered his 'hallucinations' a fake ploy to get attention, and that he really held the whole city in contempt. But he wasn't all witty comments and insults. His was closer to the position of a deeply disappointed optimist, turned cynic. There was still that grain of wanting to believe that people were good, yet after being proven wrong too many times, it wasn't practical to keep it up.

He hadn't seen Josh in a few days. Not that it was strange, the kid was as flighty as they come, wandering wherever he pleased. Things never kept his interest very long. He'd start on a few things before getting distracted by the current Game in progress or sinking into boredom.

As time goes, he realized that it was late in the day, a surprisingly slow Friday evening when his usual customers just wanted to head home as soon as possible. That idea sounded alluring to him as well. The neon OPEN light hung in the window went off with a flicker.

Sanae was in the process of counting the money in the register when the door opened. Out of the corner of his vision, he caught the familiar untamed mane of ash-blond hair and over-sized dress shirt. Returning his focus to the bills in his hands, the teen casually walked to his usual seat. His footsteps were noiseless.

Surprisingly, he stayed quiet. Joshua's demeanor felt off as well.

"Something bugging you, J?"

He turned his hands over, scanning them absently. The lack of immediate answer or snide remark made Sanae look towards him.

"J?"

Either he didn't hear him or he elected to ignore him further. This silence between them grew tense and now concerned, Sanae abandoned the register to go talk to the kid. It was only a few steps closer when he realized it- a constant trickle of blood escaping from the area just behind the temple, above the ear. The freelance curls were sticking flatly to the side of his head, stained crimson. It obscured the injury. Partially hooded eyes appeared to continue their detailed examination of the creases in his palms before vacantly drifting to the wall.

The amorphous mess of time felt like it stuttered.

For the first time, he could relate to the desperation humans must feel. Mouth open in horror, he croaked out,

"Y-you didn't..." Sanae swallowed thickly, "Josh, please, tell me you didn't."

Joshua refused to meet his eyes and instead said in a tiny voice,"I don't... feel any different."

 _"...oh my god."_ His words wavered. He had to brace himself against the wooden counter as he cupped his head in his hands.

"It's not like it matters."

Sanae had not yet recovered his composure enough to answer.

"Does it help any if I say that it didn't hurt?" He ventured, hoping to see a glimmer of approval or acceptance. He was met only with grief.

"Joshua."

"At any rate, I think it's better this way."

"You don't get to decide that!" He said loudly, aware that his tone came across as angry but unable to control it, "You don't get to fucking decide what's better for everyone else. What, you think that-that your folks are just going to brush it off? Like the people who knew you can pretend it didn't happen?"

Joshua recoiled in shock at the usually soft-spoken man's tirade, before retaliating,

"What? My 'family'? They only pretended to be interested when it worked for them. I've never had a place among the living. You know this!"

"But _killing yourself_?"

The two of them had lost their anger at one another, it drained as quickly as it had arrived.

"...what else was I supposed to do, Sanae?" Joshua's voice sounded brittle. "Tell me, what else could I have done? Is there some magical cure that I didn't know about? Some way to stop seeing all of _this_?"

He sighed heavily. There weren't any answers. He changed the subject to something more pressing,

"Where did you...?"

"Don't worry, they've probably found me by now. It was at home. Don't be sorry." he added, "I'm not."

"Yeah, but in the end, what's this going to change, J? If you somehow manage to win, you're still going to be stuck with the life you had. I can't help as much as you think I can, now that you're a Player."

"I have no intentions of 'winning'." Joshua said mysteriously.

"No. Straight N-O. If you're thinking of just charging out there and getting yourself erased-"

"Who ever said anything about erasure?"

Sanae made an inscrutable expression. "Then what?"

Tilting his head slightly, the teen smirked. "Let's just say I plan on moving on to bigger and better things."

* * *

~~~~Author's Note:

Haven't posted anything for a while, so I figured I should post something. Here's a dump of a few of my headcanons, blended into one. Apologies for any typos the formatting of this darn thing got off when I tried to copy and paste it originally so there may be a few weird spots.

As always, thanks a million for reading, I appreciate it.

-Love, Moose.


End file.
